


Instinct

by neversaydie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, M/M, Multi, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Sam Wilson, Wakanda, big brother Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7347016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversaydie/pseuds/neversaydie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re gonna run yourself into the ground just so Steve doesn’t see you’re hurting. You don’t need to, so why?”</p><p>Bucky opens his eyes when Sam shoves a carton of protein drink into his hand, because he’s nice like that. Bucky always seems sort of surprised by it, but he forces himself to sit up sluggishly so he can drink. </p><p>“I dunno. Instinct.”</p><p>[Sam and Bucky have late night heart to hearts post-CACW]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> in my head this turns into Steve/Sam/Bucky having a poly relationship in the future, but that's not in the fic yet, sadly.

Steve turns in early some nights in Wakanda. He jokingly says it’s making up for all the sleep he lost over the two years Bucky was in the wind, but mostly it’s because his Irish ass isn’t designed for hot climates and he’s drowsy as soon as the sun goes down. So Sam and Bucky spend enough time together in the evenings, at first grudgingly and then by choice, that their sniping starts to cool off a little and they form a sort-of friendship of proximity, if nothing else. 

It takes a few weeks for Sam to notice the decompression cycle Bucky starts running through once he’s sure Steve is down for the count. It starts off with him doing something physical to burn off nervous energy (sometimes hitting the apartment gym, more often picking a fight with Sam over something petty), then eating (the food issues are ongoing, and this is the only time Sam notices him attempt anything more difficult than protein drinks, junk, or uncooked fruit and vegetables, which frequently ends in disaster), and finally collapsing in a heap on the nearest soft surface, totally spent.

He’s still scared, he’s still in pain, and he’s still struggling with a weight of guilt so big it’s slowly crushing him to dust. 

It’s weird, because when Steve is around you’d think Bucky was doing great right now. His flinching at loud noises and sudden movements is at a minimum, he appears to follow conversation threads without any trouble, and the episodes of temper and memory loss are almost unnoticeable. It’s only because Sam sees the flipside that he realises how much of that is Bucky putting all his energy reserves into making sure Steve sees him being _fine_. 

“Why are you doing it?” Sam asks one night, when Bucky didn’t even have the energy to get through his entire routine and has instead spent the evening curled up in a ball on the couch, occasionally twitching like he’s got too much adrenaline but nothing to do with it. “You’re gonna run yourself into the ground just so Steve doesn’t see you’re hurting. You don’t need to, so why?”

Bucky opens his eyes when Sam shoves a carton of protein drink into his hand, because he’s nice like that. Bucky always seems sort of surprised by it, but he forces himself to sit up sluggishly so he can drink. 

“I dunno. Instinct.” Bucky noisily sucks down a gulp of the shake and Sam resists the urge to tell him he’s disgusting. This once. “I had three little sisters. And Steve was sick all the time. And his Ma was sick too. I just… I got used to being fine even when I wasn’t. Somebody had to be, y’know? And now…”

He glances up at Sam almost shyly before turning his attention back to his drink. They don’t really _talk_ , not about anything that matters, anyway. Sam kind of feels awkward about it too, but they’ve become close enough to be having this conversation now. Feels like progress. 

“Now, I don’t wanna see him sad again. Y’know that face he makes when he thinks he’s smiling but he looks like you’re ripping his guts out?” They share a knowing look, because Steve is the least subtle person on the planet and he can’t hide his feelings for shit. “I can’t do that to him again.”

“From one big brother to another?” Sam has Bucky’s full attention now, tired eyes and all. “It’s okay to take care of yourself sometimes. You don’t have to throw up the mask every day for him. He’s stronger than you think, he can handle it.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Bucky mumbles noncommittally, looking like he wishes he had two hands just so he had something to fiddle with right now. Sam sighs quietly through his nose, because these two are never going to stop throwing themselves on grenades for each other, damn the fallout it actually causes. 

“Look, we’re gonna go sightseeing tomorrow, there’s some waterfall that Monet in there wants to sketch.” He jerks his head towards Steve’s room and that draws a weary smile across Bucky’s face, just a twitch. “Stay here. Watch the perimeter, sweep for bugs, do whatever you gotta do to make yourself feel safe. Sometimes you’ve just gotta give in and go with it or you’ll go crazy, I do it too sometimes. Just take the day, alright? Vent it a little.”

“I…” Bucky looks down and frowns, mouth twisting for a moment before he looks back up at Sam, still a little confused by the fact they’re being genuinely nice to each other. “Thanks, man.”

“Yeah, well. You burn out and we’re all in the shit.” Sam offers him a hand up off the couch, because the guy looks like he’s about to curl up again and stay there all night. “Now go to bed, I ain’t your babysitter.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Bucky sets the empty carton on the table and takes Sam’s hand gratefully to pull himself up. He holds on for a little too long when he’s on his feet, and Sam’s just about to say something when Bucky pecks a kiss to his cheek, fast and barely there. “I’m really glad I didn’t kill you.”

“Go to fucking bed!” Sam pushes his good shoulder and waves him away, because his face feels hot and he doesn’t want to think about why. Bucky goes willingly, stumbling to his room to pass out because he’s really all out of energy now. 

Sam flops down onto the couch and sighs up at the ceiling, wondering if there’s any beer in the fridge. This is his life now, and he gets the feeling it’s only going to get weirder. 


End file.
